


Sinful Touches

by GrimLegate



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Femdom, Pegging, Praise Kink, Religious Guilt, Spanking, Stress Relief, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimLegate/pseuds/GrimLegate
Summary: Aymeric spends far too much time at his desk, and the Warrior thinks it is high time he takes a break.(Alternative title: The Warrior Does Lucia A Solid)
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel & Warrior of Light, Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Sinful Touches

**Author's Note:**

> Here you go, you filthy animals. c;

The incessant scratching of pen against parchment served as a poor distraction from the cramps that had begun to take over his fingers. He tried to narrow his focus to the constant sound of the tip dragging roughly against the paper, but the ache radiating outward from his wrist forced him to cap the pen and set it upon the desk. Aymeric sighed wearily as his thumbs rubbed circles around the aching flesh. His knuckles refused to crack as he tried to coax them to, having suffered the abuse for hours and hours upon end.

His attention traveled to the chronometer on the wall and the ever-burgeoning stack of papers that he had barely made a dent into. The sun hung heavy upon the horizon, and Aymeric dreaded to think just how long he would spend within his office. Already his legs ached from being seated for so long, yet he knew he did not have the luxury of the break, however small.

His attention was drawn to the scraping of heavy wood against stone, and further still to the slender figure that had stolen their way into his office. Those verdant eyes locked with his, and a sigh of relief breached his lungs as he stood up, grateful for the distraction.

“Rhythian, darling,” He left his seat, and in the span of a single heartbeat they had crossed the length of the room to find solace in the other’s arms. Rhythian practically melted into him, her ears tapering close to her head and the beginnings of a purr rumbling through her chest. He pressed a kiss to the bleached locks at the crest of her head, and she turned her head to look up at him with those dazzling eyes.

“Aw, this’s quite the welcome, handsome – didja miss me?” She teased, the tip of her tail flicking in her amusement, her hands sliding up to link around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before he could answer. There was the barest brush of her tongue against his lips, dusting his cheeks lightly as she pulled away. Without waiting for his response, her grasp trailed down to his hips, and the light in her eyes took on a mischievous gleam.

“So, I’ve been hearin’ from a lot of lil’ birdies that a certain someone’s been runnin’ himself ragged.” She crooned, and for the first time since entering the room, Aymeric noticed the dressed down state of his beloved. Gone was the massive battle axe that served as her stalwart companion, and she favored trousers and a coat for the gelid clime. His brows furrowed, wondering what sort of plans that the woman had been making up while she had been absent. “So, I thought ta show up and help ya’ get rid of some of yer stress.”

The thick Lominsan accent trailing her words dipped low into a baritone purr, and Aymeric reached for her wandering hands and caught each within his grasp. He gave an apologetic smile, and a gentle brush of his lips against her temple. “I am sorry, my love – if I had had some warning of your arrival, I would have set aside some time for us to indulge in one another, but…” His face aged nearly a decade when he threw a glance back over his shoulder at the papers that had seemed to multiply the longer he went without keeping an eye upon them.

Rhythian held his eye, and he was all the more unnerved when he saw that her expression had not changed in the slightest as he spoke. He nearly went on to give a slight cough of embarrassment when she continued to stare, but finally, _finally,_ her face shifted.

Into a _grin._

“Aw, Aym – s’awfully cute of ya’ ta think that that’ll turn me away. I’m on a mission from Lucia herself.” His mind blanked as he tried to make heads or tails of her words, knowing that if Lucia thought he was truly run down that the woman would beat him out of his office and all the way to his home. The whirling of his thoughts gave Rhythian the opportunity to press forward, forcing him on the backfoot until he was neatly pinned against his desk with the miqo’te woman neatly slotted against him.

“I even brought ya’ a _surprise_.” Her hands threaded through his hair to drag him down, her mouth meeting the exposed skin of his neck and placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the skin. Aymeric gasped, his hands flailing for something to grip and steady himself, settling onto her narrow hips. Gently, she scraped her teeth against his skin, and delighted at the feeling of his pulse jumping under her touch. Rhythian pressed her body flush against him, slipping a knee between both of his. Before his lips could utter a single word about the situation, one hand left it’s hold of his hair to grip his hip, and the warrior _rolled_ her hips.

Aymeric’s mind went completely blank as the new feeling of something _else_ pressing up against him registered in his mind, and Rhythian pulled herself away from the rosy, glimmering mark she had left against his pale skin. She _relished_ in the confusion and arousal that painted his face, the furrowed brow and parted lips, and he needed no words to convey his thoughts. Her fingers made quick work of the ties of her coat, slipping it from her shoulders and kicking it somewhere out of thought, and now, _now_ , he could see the prominent bulge within her trousers.

She took her time with shimmying the pants off of her hips, allowing more and more of the leather harness to come into view, until the tip of the facsimile peeked into view with the rest of the length. It had been colored to match her skin, and there was little more in the world that she was thankful for than the discreet nature of the seedier world that had allowed her to make such a purchase. Aymeric’s mouth went completely dry at the sight of the cock, his face coloring to the tips of his ears and stretching all the way down his neck and shoulders. The more he stared the more she worried, wondering if she had gone a step too far, if this was something that was completely out of his depth.

“It’s uh… S’not real.” She offered, taking it in hand and showing the way it wiggled very _un_ fleshlike, though the staring did not seem to relent. Rhythian then took hold of his hand, linking their fingers together and drawing his gaze back to her. “If ya’ don’t wanna then ya’ don’t gotta – jus’ thought of getting’ somethin’ new fer us to try… Let ya’ relax while I do the work.” The gentle tone of her voice drew him from his thoughts, and he listened, enraptured by every word, and when she finally fell silent, he reached his hands up to cup her face and brush his lips against his own.

“I-I… I want to try it, with you.” He stumbled overs his words, and he damns the woman before him for tongue-tying him, for thwarting every attempt to sound composed and put together. The grin returns to Rhythian’s face, and she stretches to the tips of her toes to bring their lips together. It is a soft and sweet thing that Aymeric melts into, bringing his hands up to stroke along his beloved’s ears, and the two spend a long moment caressing one another. When they finally pull away, Rhythian’s grin returns to her kiss-swollen lips and her hands settle onto his shoulders and _pushes_.

“Then relax, sweet thing – I’ll take care of ya’.”

He braces his hands upon his chest as she presses close to him, and it finally sinks in as the harsh edge of his desk presses against his hip. His mind thinks to protest for a moment, but the idea is swiftly put out of his mind the moment that Rhythian grinds their hips together – and his knees buckle under his weight. “Up, _up_.” She grunts, helping to haul him up onto the surface, and he vaguely notes the sounds of things being knocked to the floor, and shuffling under him. She distracts him once more, her lips refusing to leave his skin as her fingers pick at the latches and clips of his armor, pulling away the ornate pieces of armor across his shoulders.

She plucks at each of them as though she’s done this a thousand times (she has), continuing to strip him down until his undershirt is all that remains. The high neckline has been pressed down to afford the woman more space to mark and claim, and he twitches with every accentuated bite or lathe against his skin as her hands begin to roam.

Her fingertips light fire along his skin as she presses them up underneath his shirt, Aymeric fighting to stifle a laugh as she smooths her fingers up against his sides. He nearly chokes on the sound, as not a moment later a gasp is wrenched from his lips as she drags her nails over the skin, latching on to the thick muscle on the side of his neck. Rhythian gluts herself on the sounds that fall from Aymeric’s lips, satiating the burning desire that smolders low in her belly.

She pulls away wetly, the spot glistening as she licks a line from his collarbone to his ear, her voice rough with arousal. “Gods yer jus’ makin’ the _cutest_ noises… I can’t wait to hear ‘em when I bury my _cock_ in ya’.” The roll of her hips shot fire through his veins, and his head tipped back as he let out a moan, displaying all of the mottled love-bites and bruises the woman had left in her wake.

“ _That’s_ it, handsome – I wanna hear ya’ _sing_ for me.” She purred, her fingers trailing at the bottom edge of Aymeric’s shirt and beginning to pull, the man shuddering at the cool air hitting his heated skin. Rhythian’s mouth immediately found the unmarred skin of his collarbone, dragging smoldering kisses and bites along the skin as her hands roamed below. Her mouth settles upon one of his nipples, lathing the sensitive bud with her tongue and rolling it between her teeth. It takes everything within Aymeric not to shout to the heavens’ and cry out the goddess’ name in vain, and instead it is Rhythian’s name that he calls out in prayer as she squeezes his erection through his trousers.

There is an insistence behind her touches, and she works the clasps and ties that keep his dignity within the confines of his pants. Aymeric felt one of the final buttons pop loose, and no sooner had the front of his pants been undone than Rhythian pressed forward to slip within, her hands cupping and curling around his sack. She draws him into an open-mouthed kiss, nibbling against his bottom lip and dragging her teeth over its surface. Her fangs bite against the sensitive skin, and she releases him in favor of claiming his mouth, silencing the cries that fell from his lips.

She teases the sensitive skin just below his arousal, palming him roughly as she teases his tongue with her own, coaxing him to do the same. Aymeric moves a hand from his desk to cup the back of Rhythian’s, grasping desperately at the shorn hair. She seemed to understand the wordless plea from the man, all but consuming his mouth as her hand grasped his cock, and she greedily swallowed the choked off cry that welled up in his throat.

Pre had leaked all the way down the shaft, and Rhythian smirked into the kiss as she pumped his length, chasing Aymeric’s lips as he pulled away to cry out. Her pace was unrelenting, and she wondered when the last time he had taken the time to indulge in himself was – in the scant moments he had between trying to piece back together a broken nation.

“R-Rhythian!” He cried, his chest rising and falling with desperate breath the longer she continued. It had been far too long since he had afforded himself the luxury of touching himself, and he was beginning to feel his climax creeping up on him. His abs tightened and shuddered, thighs twitching, and he leaned into her hand, chasing his pleasure _right_ towards the edge –

Only for her touch to disappear.

Aymeric flushed at the shameless whine that left his lips, and Rhythian cupped his face with her clean hand. She laughed, leaning forward to bump their foreheads together, giving him a soft little peck upon his lips.

“Now, now – don’tcha look at me like that. I told ya’ I’d take care of ya’.” She stepped away from the desk, shimmying her pants off of her hips, looking over her shoulder to catch Aymeric staring. “Likin’ whatcha see?” Aymeric couldn’t trust his voice in that moment, simply nodding vigorously, drawing laughter from her lips. With the rest of her clothes falling atop the coat she had shed when she first came in, he could the see the rest of the pale leather harness that stood out against her dark skin. She posed teasingly for him, striking one pose and then another, before the pair couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Rhythian crossed back over to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love ya’.” Aymeric felt his breath catch in his throat, his face softening as his mouth and brain finally could work on the same wavelength.

“I love you, too.” He whispered reverently, cupping her face and kissing over her skin. Rhythian purred deeply, soaking in the attention before stepping away.

“Alright, handsome – flip over, against yer desk.” Aymeric’s heart leapt into his throat at the command, staying frozen atop his desk before shuffling down onto the floor. He stood for a moment, unsure of whether or not to try and keep the last scraps of his dignity or to shed his trousers. He battled with himself for a moment, watching Rhythian rummaging around in the pockets of the coat looking for something.

_They will have to come off eventually,_ he reasoned, and began to shed the last remaining layer of his clothes. He swallowed a hiss as the cold air of the room swept against the heat of his arousal. He turned around to face his desk, settling himself on his forearms as he listened to the woman continue to move around, before she made a small, pleased noise, and the hushed sound of her footsteps drew ever nearer.

Aymeric chanced a look back as Rhythian set a vial down upon the desk, clear and unassuming, and he could only imagine it was oil for him. He had expected her to jump straight into it, working her way inside of him, but the hands smoothing across his hips moved slowly and methodically.

“Ease up, luv.” She tapped her finger against the muscles in his lower back, and Aymeric realized the tension that he had been holding there unknowingly. He forced himself to ease into his touch, breathing deeply and listening to the crooning encouragement that fell from the woman’s lips.

Her hands settled along his hips, digging little crescents into the skin to listen to Aymeric’s breath hitch at the sensation. She dragged her nails towards the pale skin of his ass, stopping to kiss a small mole on one of his cheeks. Aymeric still struggled to relax the closer that the woman trailed towards her goal, tensing once one hand had left his skin. He waited for the sound of the cork being dislodged from the bottle, but when no such sound met his ears, he turned his head to look to Rhythian.

And the felt the harsh swat to his ass in response.

He _yelped,_ more in surprise than in pain, and he jerked forward into his desk, hissing as his erection brushed against it. Rhythian couldn’t help her amusement as she roughly patted his ass.

“Told ya’ to ease up, I can’t do nothin’ to ya’ if yer all tremblin’ and tense.” Aymeric almost felt the need to pout at the treatment, but he understood why she had done it. A part of him almost wanted to tell her to continue with the treatment, but a part of him rankled at the idea at _asking_ to be _spanked._

_As though I am a naughty child_ , he could not help but think, and his pride kept that little desire tucked away within his breast as Rhythian continued to move on. Her hands trailed ever closer, smoothing over the skin and getting him used to the feeling of her touching him, allowing him to settle into the familiar calluses and scars that marred the warrior’s hands. Finally, each of her hands took one cheek in hand and _spread_. The feeling of cool air alone would have been enough to make him squirm, but the knowledge that Rhythian was behind him, staring at his puckered entrance made his face _burn_.

A single finger gently brushed against him and his body twitched violently at the foreign feeling, reminding himself to relax. Rhythian did little more than drag her finger around his hole, adjusting her grip to keep him spread open, watching the fluttering reactions to each of her touches.

“Spread yer legs.” She ordered, drawing Aymeric out of his thoughts and the sensations he was experiencing, and he shuffled to open his legs up. He finally heard the sound he had been anticipating, shuddering as the cork was placed upon the table, and he waited once more her slickened fingers. Instead, the dribbling sensation pooled over his skin, and Rhythian giggled behind him when he had yelped at the cool oil being poured over him.

He felt some of the oil drip from off of his sack, hitting the floor in small droplets, and Rhythian drew her fingers through the liquid once she set the vial down. Aymeric moaned as she gripped his erection once more, pumping it with one hand while the other returned to play with his hole. Her fingers trailed around the entrance, gathering up the oil against her digits and warming it up. She continued to lazily stroke him, drawing his mind away from the feeling of the touches further below, until she tested his hole, gently probing the tip of her finger inside him.

Aymeric couldn’t help but tense up at the alien feeling, but for all of that, it did not hurt. He had been certain that the moment something had been pushed inside of him that it would ache, and that he would be forced to endure for however long until his body adjusted. Rhythian slowly inched her finger into him, gingerly pressing against his walls, running it back and forth as Aymeric began to ease up.

A second was added, and Aymeric began to feel the stretch as his body tried to accommodate for something it was not made for, Rhythian increasing her strokes to try and distract him from the feeling. She took her time with him, curling her fingers inside and prodding his walls, spreading her fingers gently to ease him open. Aymeric breathlessly moaned, and a part of him didn’t know whether or not to be ashamed to admit that it wasn’t entirely from the hand along his length. The fingers dragging along his walls heated up his insides, and the brand-new sensations left him grasping at the edge of his desk, desperate for something to anchor himself to.

“Last one.” She murmured, and Aymeric felt the three fingers beginning to press into him. He hissed at the stretch, more of discomfort than pain, and he wondered if three was truly necessary. _Better to be overstretched than under,_ his mind supplied, and he settled at the idea of it. Her fingers trailed against his heated flesh, and the push and pull as she curled her fingers inside of him made his thighs twitch and tremble.

He could feel Rhythian shift behind him, and suddenly her chest was pressed flush against his back, and her mouth trailed along his neck and up towards his ear. “Think you’ll be okay?” She asked, and Aymeric nodded, grunting as Rhythian nibbled along the length of his lobe, drawing her fingers from inside of him. He felt oddly empty, a sensation completely foreign and new, but Rhythian’s touches distracted him from the strange feeling.

Those wicked, sinful lips drug lines of fire across his exposed skin, her tongue lathing against the blistering bites she had left in the wake of disrobing his heavy attire. Her touch brought his skin to life, awaking to the blunt feeling of nails dragging across his chest and settling upon his hips. He need not see the woman’s face to discern her mood, he could feel the predatory grin that stretched across his neck as she left one more bruising mark with a wet ‘pop’.

Rhythian rolled her sun-kissed shoulders as she hauled Aymeric back to press him flush against her hips. Her eyes drank in the sight of his back arching with the hitched breath that flooded his lungs, and her ears pressed forward to hear every hushed prayer and gasp that fell from those deliciously plump lips. She desperately wanted to drink up every single carefully thought-out, perfectly prim and proper word that he uttered, but the desire within her to watch every single modicum of decorum vanish under her touch slaked her thirst enough.

Dark fingers trailed over the sensitive skin of Aymeric’s bottom, each hand taking hold of a pale globe each and _squeezing_ , digging her nails in the slightest amount to watch each cheek flex. She pushed him further onto his desk, delighting in the way his hole fluttered with the foreign feeling of being exposed. Rhythian licked her lips, savoring the sight of the man before her; bent over his own desk and blushing to the tips of his ears, the sight of his pert ass and weeping cock stoking the fire that had been simmering low in her belly since the idea had manifested within her.

One hand grasped the phallus attached to her, stroking the oil over the silky surface of the toy, allowing the slick sound to fill the air. Aymeric shuddered, his thighs twitching with anticipation, the urge to look over his shoulder at her growing stronger and stronger, until a gasp tore brutally from his throat at the feeling of the toy brushing against his entrance.

“How’re ya’ holdin’ up, luv?” Rhythian purred to him, reaching back down and giving him a nip at the tip of his ear, drawing a gasp from him. Aymeric continued to shudder as she rubbed the head of the toy against him, the pressure agonizingly teasing, and he _whimpered_ when he could feel her press _just_ the very tip in before relenting. His cock throbbed with his heartbeat, and he chanced a look back to see those emerald eyes nearly eclipsed by her pupils, and the sheer intensity with which she stared at him.

The sight of her spurred him on to answer, nearly having forgotten it in the throes of his pleasure and he nodded. “I… I am well, m-more than, but…” His cheeks burned as he considered _begging_ , and the way Rhythian leaned forward, her eyes focused squarely upon him, he found he could not deny her, nor himself any longer. “ _Please_ , I do not think I can endure much longer.” He rolled his hips back as though to further insinuate his request, and that wicked, _wicked_ grin cut through her features, and she cooed in that sweet, _saccharine_ tone,

“And here I had been thinkin’ of teasin’ ya’ for a lil’ while longer… but, since ya’ had ta go an’ ask so _sweetly_ …” The circular motions trailing around his entrance stopped, and one of her hands trailed to grip at his hip, squeezing his love handles. He felt Rhythian lean into him, pressing her hips forward and pulling him back, until he had opened up around the tip.

She paid little mind to the gasping and whimpers as she slowly, agonizingly sank into him, inch after inch of delicious friction dragging along his walls until she had bottomed out in him. He quaked along his desk, the sensation so overwhelming and new, the sensation of trying not to immediately lose himself when they had barely just begun. He barely heard the soft crooning as she mouthed against his skin.

“ _Such_ a good boy… doin’ so good fer me… Ease up an’ I’ll take care of ya’…” Rhythian whispered, rolling her hips as the toy remained buried to the hilt. Aymeric gasped at the movement, gripping at the edge of his desk while he adjusted to the feeling. The toy felt thrice the size it had appeared, and his body shuddered releasing heaving breaths with every movement that the woman made. Time felt as though it had stood still, moments stretching into eons, until Rhythian began to pull back.

Every inch rubbing against his insides as the toy withdrew from him had him convinced he would die like this – drowning in pleasure and succumbing to the wiles of this blasphemous woman. She pulled prayers from his lips, stood above him and dominated him, and a sob wrenched from his throat as she pressed back in, torturously, lethargically, until she was seated in him once more. He could feel the sweat trailing between his shoulder blades, jumping when Rhythian leaned to press a gentle kiss there.

“How’re ya holdin’ up, handsome?” The softness of her voice was nearly lost in the sound of blood pounding in his ears, and he had to think on what she had said for a moment before understanding what it was she had asked.

“O-Overwhelmed, just a tad.” It was a miracle that he was still standing, to be honest. Even propped up against his desk as he was, it took everything in him not to go bow-legged and melt into a puddle on the floor. He could feel his arousal pulse in time with the beat of his heart, and no matter how much he tried to focus on her presence and her voice, the feeling of the toy stretching out his insides was swiftly taking over all of the attention he could give.

Rhythian opened her mouth, more than ready to give him all the time he would need to adjust, or even to call it quits right there, and that she could take care of him a different way, should that suit him. But, when he glanced over his shoulder, Rhythian’s mouth went dry at the sight. The curled locks of ebon stuck to his forehead, nearly falling into and obscuring the glazed-over appearance of his eyes. His lips were swollen and bruised from bites and kisses alike, and his blush stretched across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears.

His chest heaved with a breath, and he shuffled on his elbows to shift himself further backwards, rolling his hips against her. Her grip on his hips loosened as she watched, mesmerized, drawn to those parted lips as they spoke.

“G-Go ahead, move.”

Aymeric almost felt the need to add an almost demure ‘please’, onto the end, but before he could amend the thought, Rhythian’s pupils dilated and nearly consumed the bright viridian iris’. The grip on his hips became nearly bruising, and she gave a sharp jerk forward, Aymeric nearly unable to keep himself upright on his elbows.

His gasp was like music to her ears, and in one fluid motion she pulled herself from inside of him and slid back home. Her pace was even, deep and thrumming straight to his core. The sensation was so overwhelming, so new, it was all he could do to hold himself together, pushed and pulled by her desires alone. The wet sounds of skin upon skin echoed about the room, and Aymeric found himself lulled by the steady rhythm she beat against him.

Finally, he began to anchor himself within the feeling, becoming less overwhelmed as time went on, until he found the strength in him to rock back against her in time with her own thrusts. Her purr of amusement rang in his ears, and she pressed a splayed palm against the small of his back.

“Aren’t ya’ cute – already wantin’ more?” She asked, one of her hands trailing down to grasp around his cock, lightly squeezing his sack. He didn’t dignify the question with a response, his wet gasp more than enough affirmation, as she moved to stroke him in time to their movements. If he had though the sensation was overwhelming when she had fingered him, this was nothing in comparison.

He felt as though his core itself was being brushed up against with every thrust into him, fanning the flames of his arousal. He could feel the steady swell upon the horizon, feeling that same coiling feeling deep in his belly. He shuffled to try and press back further against her, quickly becoming dissatisfied with the pace, wanting to hurl himself to his end.

“P-lease! My love – more, faster!” He gasped, and he felt Rhythian’s movement stutter for a moment, faltering, and the hand upon his cock released him, and he turned his head to ask what might’ve been wrong. His answer was the hand threading through his hair and gripping firmly, just a hair on the side of painful, and pressing him down towards the desk as she _viciously_ thrust into him.

He felt lightning jolt down his spine, and his cry echoed around his office as Rhythian set a brutal pace. The hand on his hip was nearly bruising, and when he strained his ears, he could hear the harsh breathing and grunting of the woman behind him. He rocked his hips back into her, trying to match her pace as best he could, breaths heaving from his lungs with each and every thrust.

He heard the sound before he felt it – the crack of her hand upon his flesh before the delicious burn that seared up from his ass. He cried out, and another, less harsh, swat fell upon the tender skin, choking his breathing with a gasp while Rhythian chuckled behind him.

“Gods, look’it how far ya’ve fallen from bein’ all ‘prim an’ proper’. Now ya’ look like nothin’ more than a Limsan barmaid who loves ta be _fucked_ by skints like me. Ain’t that right?” She pounded into him, squeezing his ass cheeks and bending over him as she pressed him further and further against his desk. “Say it, say ya’ like bein’ fucked by me!”

“I love it – I love you!” He cried, nearly being engulfed by the embarrassment of admitting such a thing. A part of him felt like the ground would swallow him up, that small, conservative part of him that he had spent so long trying to break himself of hissing somewhere in the back of his mind – but the fact, the simple _fact,_ of Rhythian’s touch upon his skin grounded him, and he realized he had been babbling ‘I love you’ over and over until Rhythian pulled out of him.

“Turn over. C’mon, _hurry_.” She growled, manhandling him and helping him to flip over onto his back. She pulled his arms over her shoulders and lunged in for a kiss as she entered him, resuming the pounding staccato she had set previously. He pulled her flush against him, moaning into her lips and drowning in the sensations that piled atop one another. Her tongue rubbed up against his, teeth teasing his lower lip, and the strokes against his insides that were sending him closer and closer to his peak.

They finally broke away in a heaving, gasping tangle, and he nearly _sobbed_ as she took him into her grasp once more, stroking him in time with her thrusts. He buried his face into her throat, gasping through open-mouthed kisses against her skin.

“Close, close… R-Rhythian I’m…”

“Come for me then, handsome.” She growled, and Aymeric’s abdomen convulsed as Rhythian doubled down on the thrusts, _pounding_ into him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge like he so desired. He had been chasing his end all night, and it felt like it had been forever since he had even come _this_ close to achieving his pleasure, the stresses of the country compounding more and more until he barely had a moment to breathe let alone touch himself.

And now, it was almost painful, as he continued to teeter closer and closer to that edge, sensitive to the point of overwhelming, and he weakly rutted up against his beloved the best that he could, trying desperately to throw himself over the edge. Finally, _finally,_ the teasing strokes of his orgasm dangling just out of reach suddenly crashed over him as Rhythian sank her teeth into his neck in one final love bite.

He cried out Rhythian’s name, twitching and jerking as his arms tightened around her, spilling his seed between the two of them as he rutted his hips into her hand and back onto the toy, his body desperately trying to ride out his orgasm on both. Time became an irrelevant concept, and he was only barely aware of the touches against his skin, and the movement from the only other person in the room.

His awareness slowly seeped back to him in bits and pieces, the chill against his sweat-laden skin registering first. Then, the discomfort of sitting upon his desk, and the swipe of cloth against his skin. When his eyes finally obeyed his rattled mind, he saw Rhythian gently wiping the worst of the mess away, and he couldn’t comprehend enough yet to be embarrassed as she wiped the lube from between his thighs.

Finally, everything began to catch up, and he reached down to grip her wrist. Not enough to truly stop her, but it was simply her attention that he wanted.

“L-Let… let me take care of you.” He gasped, moving to slide off of the desk and onto his knees before her, but her firm hold upon him kept him where he was.

“Nope – this was all fer ya’, handsome.” She nuzzled a kiss against his temple, and her sweet smile brushed warmth against his skin. “Tell ya’ what, cos’ yer done with work fer the day – and I’ll be talkin’ to Lucia about that in a moment, once we get home and nap for a bit and clean ya’ up proper, if ya’ still feel up to it, _then_ we can talk about me, ‘kay?” Aymeric nodded, knowing that there was nothing he could do to convince her if she had already planned out what they were doing next. There was still the promise of making it up to her in the end, and that was enough to placate him for the time. Besides, it wouldn’t do to bring her pleasure in any scene other than the lavish chambers of their shared rooms.

Rhythian crossed the room to press the rag into the large coat pockets, sifting through the abandoned clothes for her pants, wiggling them on and trying to ignore the slick feeling every time she walked. Quick work was made of the rest of the clothes, and she crossed over to Aymeric who was still seemingly trying to parse how thinking worked once more, and she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Ya’ did good, handsome. Take yer time getting dressed and sorted, I’ll be outside waitin’.” Aymeric nodded dumbly and watched as she crossed from his desk to the door, opening it up and giving her love a small, innocuous little handwave before slipping through the door. She was glad to see that the post by Aymeric’s door was unoccupied, no doubt in part to the woman across the way.

Lucia looked up from her own stack of paperwork, and cocked an imploring brow at the miqo’te woman, and Rhythian gave her a thumbs up. To which, Lucia ditifully nodded her head, and turned her focus back to the papers upon her desk.

**Author's Note:**

> I was completely, totally, and definitely enabled/encouraged by the Emet-Selch Book Club.


End file.
